


winter is coming

by challaudaku



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/challaudaku/pseuds/challaudaku
Summary: The Winter Soldier is sitting in Sam’s apartment. It hasn’t even been an hour since he agreed to help Steve look for him, and here he is, sitting on Sam’s couch. Sam just walks through his door and looks straight up to see him.To be honest, he’s about to freak out





	winter is coming

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to lanie and clarithe for betaing!! thank you both so so much!! uwuwu  
> 13716 words, by google docs

The Winter Soldier is sitting in Sam’s apartment. It hasn’t even been an hour since he agreed to help Steve look for him, and here he is, sitting on Sam’s couch. Sam just walks through his door and looks straight up to see him.

“Hello,” he says slowly, making eye contact with the Soldier.  

Steve can probably preach about how good of a person Bucky is for the rest of time, and Sam has no reason to not believe him, but this isn’t  _ Bucky _ . Sam’s staring right at the Winter Soldier. He’s pretty sure there’s a drastic difference between the two.

How did he even get in?

The Winter Soldier doesn’t respond, instead just continuing to stare at Sam.

“I’m going to make tea,” Sam says, moving away from the door and towards the kitchen. “You want some?”

To be honest, he’s about to freak out and if his Mama has instilled anything in him, it’s that tea solves everything. This is a big “everything”.

He can feel the Soldier’s eyes on him as he moves, but he still doesn’t respond. Sam decides to make a second cup, just in case.

Sam’s movements are careful, obvious — he doesn’t know why the Soldier is in his house and he  _ really _ doesn’t know why he’s still alive, but he’d like to keep it that way. Once he puts his kettle on the stove, he allows himself to stare back at the Soldier.

“My name,” the Soldier says slowly, looking at Sam with hard eyes, “is James Buchanan Barnes.”

His voice is rough, like it hasn’t been used in a while, and it’s hollow. He says the words stiffly, like he’s reading from something.

“Okay,” Sam says. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to respond.

The Soldier is saying that he’s Bucky — which is great — but Sam doesn’t believe that he’s  _ fully _ Bucky. The way Steve talks about him… Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Steve’s in love with him. The person sitting in front of him? Sam can’t imagine being in love with someone so hollow.

Also, the whole murdering-assassin thing. For Sam, that’d put a little bit of a damper on a relationship.

“I was born March 10th, 1917,” the Soldier says, speaking a little louder. “I served as a sniper in World War II. 107th. I’m good friends with Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America.  _ Best _ friends.”

Sam keeps his mouth shut. There has to be some type of catch with all of this.

“Is that right?” the Soldier asks, and he’s looking up at Sam, his brows furrowed and his mouth in a tight frown. “I read it in a museum.”

And there it is.

Sam knows the exhibit well — he and his father must’ve gone to the Captain America exhibit in the Smithsonian dozens of times. Especially when he enlisted, Sam would try and find some inspiration there. It’s  _ Captain America _ . No one more inspiring.

And right in there, in the center of the exhibit, there’s a whole piece about Bucky Barnes.

“It’s wrong,” the Soldier says, after Sam’s silent for another moment. It’s not a question. Sam furrows his brows at the Soldier and the Soldier visibly winces, as if Sam’s about to hurt him.

“It’s right,” Sam whispers softly.

The kettle starts to whistle, so Sam turns his back on the Soldier again, getting two cups and pouring some hot water into them both, trying to be as quick as possible in order to get back to his conversation with the Soldier.

He doesn’t bother to ask how the Soldier likes his tea. He’s pretty sure he won’t get an answer.

The Soldier remains seated on Sam’s couch, silent once again, and Sam brings the tea over, placing it on the coffee table in front of him.

“So, you read it in a museum?” Sam says, blowing on his own cup and taking the first sip. He remains standing, facing the Soldier head on.

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” the Soldier repeats slowly, staring at the mug in front of him, “but I don’t remember being James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Why are you here?” Sam asks, trying to keep his voice level.

The Soldier looks up at him, a frown on his face.

“I  _ need _ to remember being James Buchanan Barnes,” he says, his face hard.

“I’m not sure I’m the best equipped,” Sam replies with a little laugh. “I can get Steve to —”

“No,” the Soldier says sharply, cutting him off by banging the coffee table with his metal hand. “No,” he says again, quieter, looking down at his hand like he doesn’t even control it.

“Okay,” Sam says, his mouth going a little dry. He drinks some more of his tea, desperately trying to push down the urge to run out of his house screaming. “What do you need from me?”

The Soldier looks up at him, still frowning. He opens his mouth and then closes it, looking like he’s unsure of what to say. He does this a couple of more times until finally, he responds.

“A place to stay.”

…

The Winter Soldier is staying in Sam’s house and he can’t tell Steve about it.

It’s driving him a little bit crazy because Steve is so  _ hopeful _ about finding Bucky. Sam’s trying to be optimistic about searching for him around Steve, but it’s just a waste of his time. He  _ knows  _ where the Winter Soldier is — in his living room. Or his bathroom. Or the guest bedroom Sam put him in. The Soldier seems at home at Sam’s house.

The Soldier hardly ever eats. That’s something Sam picked up on early on, when he decided that he’s  _ actually _ doing this. He makes dinner for himself every night anyway, so he just starts to make larger portions and place a plate in front of the Soldier. The Soldier, though, hardly touches it. He treats it like some foreign thing.

And Sam finds himself  _ caring _ about the Soldier. Maybe there’s a part of him that was born to be a dad because he keeps on trying to urge the Soldier to eat the food he makes.

The Soldier does, sometimes.

The Soldier also doesn’t really speak. The two times Sam has encountered him in full Winter Soldier mode, he was silent, a deadly assassin blending in with the shadows. Sam supposes that even now, even when whatever makes the Soldier  _ the Soldier _ seems subdued, that carries over.

Sam still tries to make conversation, though.

He’s lived by himself for years. He’s used to being in silence, but there’s something about having another person there that makes the silence unbearable. Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t want to be killed the moment things seem awkward between the two of them.

So, he talks and the Soldier listens. Or at least  _ hears _ . He talks about anything and everything, from what’s happening when Sam goes to the Avengers facility (he actually draws out a tiny laugh from the Soldier when he mentions a superhero that came and shrunk down to defeat him) to how his family’s doing (his older sister is expecting her second kid with her wife, and Sam’s excited to be an uncle all over again).

There are points where Sam wishes he could read the Soldier’s mind.

_ What’s going on up there? _

He wishes that he could open the Soldier’s head and fix whatever’s wrong. The more Steve talks about Bucky, the more Sam wishes he knew the real Bucky, instead of the Soldier living in his house. He feels nostalgic for someone he doesn’t even know.

Sam spends his days hearing stories about the dazzling young sergeant who could charm a dame with a wink and a smile and he spends his night  _ wishing _ that he could know  _ that _ person instead of the person the sergeant became.

Hiraeth, he’s pretty sure that’s called.

The more Steve talks about Bucky, though, the more Sam tries to get Bucky to remember. He doesn’t force it on him. He’s pretty sure trying to force the Soldier to remember will end with Sam dead.

He does little things, though.

Steve mentioned that Bucky  _ loved _ technology. He talked for a good five minutes on how much of a technology nerd Bucky was and how he hoped that wherever he was Bucky was taking in all the modern-day tech there is.

Whenever Sam is at Stark’s lab with Steve, he makes sure to nick something for the Soldier. Something small, like a robot prototype Stark was working on or a cool flashlight with effects that Sam doesn’t see the usefulness in, like different colored lights. He even manages to steal a Stark phone for the Soldier. It doesn’t have any service on it, but it still functions fine without calling.

Sam gives them all to the Soldier and the Soldier seems to appreciate them, but it’s a little disheartening for Sam — he’s pretty sure the Soldier just appreciates the gifts as gifts. Not as Bucky loving tech.

One day, Sam’s sorting out some math for Steve — some battle plan they needed for a rogue HYDRA base — when the Soldier comes up behind him, so quiet Sam doesn’t hear him.

“Your math is wrong,” he says, making Sam jump a little bit.

He’s peering down as the paper and grabs Sam’s pencil from the table. He tosses it between his two hands for a second before ultimately deciding on his left one, the metal one.

Sam just watches as the Soldier makes some quick notes. When he draws back, Sam looks back and checks over the Soldier’s edits.

The math checks out, as far as he can tell.

“Thanks,” he says to the Soldier. 

The Soldier gives him a little wink, saying, “Anytime, Doll,” and smirking a little bit.

Sam isn’t thinking about Bucky’s behavior, though. He probably should — that’s progress, right? Nicknames? — but all he can think about is something Steve mentioned — Bucky had always been good at math. He made an excellent sniper in the war for that reason and when they were younger, he would constantly help Steve with the math homework he never understood.

Suddenly, the Soldier’s easy grin morphs into a frown and he looks at Sam, blinking hard.

“I thought I remembered something, but —” he winces before stopping. The Soldier stands up a little bit straighter — a little bit stiffer — and walks away before finishing his sentence.

Did he just remember something — something about being Bucky? Sam is tempted to call after the Soldier, but he just watches the Soldier’s retreating back, letting him go.

It seems like whatever the Soldier remembered is gone.

Still, Sam keeps at it, making sure the Soldier eats, giving him little gifts of his past. He’ll keep trying.

…

The Winter Soldier is sitting in the far corner of Sam’s living room, his knees drawn to his chest. He’s visibly shaking.

Sam’s living room is in utter disarray. The couch is ripped open in several places, the coffee table is flipped over, the glass top shattered. The books that sat perfectly on Sam’s bookshelf just hours ago have been ripped out of their places, tossed onto the floor, and his lamp lays on its side, the light bulb broken.

And the Soldier is sitting in the corner, surrounded by the mess.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out as Sam approaches him, taking in the disaster around him.

The Soldier looks  _ terrified _ . Sam’s lying if he says that this doesn’t make him feel better. Sure, he doesn’t want the Soldier to be scared, but this lets Sam know that he’s still human, inside. He’s not fully the Winter Soldier.

“It’s okay,” Sam says softly, approaching the Soldier more.

“I just lost control of —” the Soldier’s voice cracks and his breathing becomes quicker. “I lost control of my mind,” he finishes, looking at his left hand in despair.

“It’s okay,” Sam repeats, walking closer still, but the Soldier shakes his head.

“No, it’s not,” he responds, each breath he takes shallow.  There’s a couple of moments of silence before the Soldier looks up, his eyes dark. He stares Sam straight in the eyes and clenches his fists. “What’s my punishment?”

“Punishment?” Sam asks, faltering. He pauses in his tracks, looking down at the Soldier.

“I messed up,” the Soldier says sharply, still staring at Sam. “I deserve punishment.” When Sam doesn’t reply, the Soldier makes a sound that’s almost a growl. “ _ Punish me _ ,” he hisses. “Get it over with.”

“I’m not going to punish you,” Sam says finally. He crouches down so that he’s level with the Soldier and tells him, again, “It’s  _ okay _ .”

The Soldier seems to be taking this in very slowly. He blinks and looks back down at his hand.

“I —” the Soldier says, and his voice sounds so  _ broken _ .

“What’s your name?” Sam asks softly, still looking down at the Soldier. Sam needs to know whose mindset he’s in right now. He needs to know whether to back away now or to stay and help.

“I’m the Asset,” the Soldier whispers, his voice barely audible. Sam’s heart plummets. “I’m supposed to shape the century. World peace. That’s the mission,” he continues, blinking hard.

Sam almost laughs at that. They really had to tell the Soldier that his mission was world peace to get him to comply? Maybe there’s more Bucky in there than Sam thought.

Still, the Soldier can kill him in an instant. Sam’s body is still on alert.

“Bucky?” Sam asks, trying to keep his voice level. The Soldier shakes his head. “What’s your name?” Sam asks again. He can hear his voice wavering.

“I’m the —” the Soldier says, his voice cracking. He shakes his head again. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” he says finally, forcing himself to look up at Sam. There’s a determined look in his eyes, as if this is his truth and he  _ needs _ to keep it. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” he says again, sounding sure of himself and closing his eyes tightly. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” he says again, before opening his eyes and looking up at Sam. “...Right?”

And Sam hates how  _ broken _ the Soldier sounds at that. That one single word.

“Right,” Sam says, nodding. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes,” he shoots back at the Soldier. “And James?” he says.

The Soldier makes eye contact with Sam. His eyes have a fierceness in them.

“It’s  _ okay _ ,” Sam repeats. He means it — he’d rather his living room get destroyed thousands of times than for the Soldier to revert into the Asset mode.

The Soldier blinks fast, looking slightly overwhelmed, but he doesn’t say anything. Sam notices his body start to shake slightly and he reaches out a hand to the Soldier tentatively. The Soldier doesn’t draw back. Neither does Sam.

“Bucky? Babe?” Sam says, as soft as he can make his voice. The name babe just slips out, but Sam doesn’t try and take it back. It fits, in this moment. His Mama would always call him babe in her soft tone and it would calm him down almost immediately. Sam has put it into his vernacular and has slipped into the habit of using around his friends, too, whenever they need a little extra comfort.

The Soldier looks up at him, a frown on his face.

“Do you want a hug?” he offers.

The words feel wrong on his lips, but they’re out before he can stop them. It’s not that Sam doesn’t like hugs, but it feels wrong to offer one to the Soldier.

Yet the Soldier looks up at Sam and, very slowly, nods.

Sam — slowly, very slowly — leans in and hugs the Soldier, wrapping his arms around his neck. The Soldier doesn’t wrap his arms around Sam, but Sam can feel him put his head onto one of Sam’s shoulders slowly. He thinks he hears the Soldier sniff.

He wonders, in the back of his mind, when the Soldier was hugged last.

…

The Winter Soldier turns out to be a really good listener. Sam can talk to him for hours about anything and everything.

It’s not that Sam  _ needs _ to talk about his problems — though it  _ is _ good to get them off his chest — but Sam needs to fill the silence that seems to follow the Soldier. He needs to make the Soldier seem more like Bucky Barnes — a  _ human _ — and less like the Asset — a highly dangerous assassin.

Today, he’s telling a story about Steve to the Soldier. They’re sitting on Sam’s couch, on different ends, and the Soldier is paying rapt attention to Sam as he talks.

It’s a stupid, small story, a tech thing Steve didn’t understand, but the Soldier seems more involved than ever.

“Steve —” the Soldier says hesitantly, once Sam finishes.

Sam snaps to attention. It’s not that he’s not prepared for Steve to be brought up — he was the one who started with his story, anyway — but the Soldier hasn’t, in all of their time living together, brought up Steve. It’s always Sam who brings him up, if he’s brought up at all, but he tries to keep mentions to a minimum.

“I think I remember Steve,” the Soldier says, looking over at Sam. His eyes have a slight sparkle to them and Sam’s starting to wonder if  _ this _ is Bucky.

“That’s good,” Sam says, not trying to pressure the Soldier into anything.

“I don’t really remember  _ memories _ of him,” the Soldier continues, furrowing his brows and frowning a little bit. “I don’t remember a certain event with him, but I remember just…  _ him _ .”

Sam nods and the corner of the Soldier’s mouth twitches up — he looks so  _ happy _ at remembering this sliver of information, it makes Sam’s heart ache. His eyes are sparkling. They’re not the hard stare of the Soldier. The corners of his mouth keep on twisting up until they form a little smile that’s slightly teasing.

This is _Bucky_.

Sam is beginning to get it now, why Steve’s so desperate to get Bucky back. Just from this small glimpse of him, Sam already wants to have this man as his friend. He wants Bucky to be around all the time.

“Does he know I’m here?” Bucky asks, looking over Sam’s shoulder as though maybe Steve will be standing there, waiting for him.

“No,” Sam says with a little sigh. “No, not yet.”

“Right,” Bucky says, seeming to deflate a little bit. He looks down at his hands and Sam’s ready to explain why Steve can’t know why Bucky’s here, but Bucky just shakes his head quickly, as if he’s trying to remember something, so Sam stays silent. “Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky mutters out loud. “Captain America. My best friend. Inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…”

The Soldier looks back up Sam.

…

The Winter Soldier has a sister.

Well, had.

It hits the Soldier while he and Sam are having dinner. Sam can see it happening — the Soldier’s face changes quickly, until it’s the same face that the Soldier was wearing when he remembered Steve.

Bucky.

“I had a sister,” Bucky mutters to Sam, looking down at his food. His mouth is twitching. “I had a sister,” he repeats, looking up at Sam. His eyes are bright, and his mouth is in a full smile now. “Rebecca. She used to draw. And dance. She loved dancing,” Bucky says, talking a little faster. “She would dance everywhere. She wanted to dance on Broadway,” he says with a little chuckle.

Sam gets up quickly, because he has a  _ plan _ .

He grabs a notebook he finds in his living room, and grabs a pencil, as well, coming back to Bucky — who’s still looking so  _ happy _ and knowing this information — and placing the items in front of him.

“My dad died when I was a teenager,” Sam says, quickly — he doesn’t know how much longer Bucky will be  _ Bucky _ . “I was so scared of losing the memories I had of him, so I wrote down everything and anything I remembered about him.” Sam gestures to the notebook. “I thought you could do something like that. Keep your memories contained and, yeah…” Sam finishes lamely.

Bucky looks up at Sam, still smiling, and nods, picking up the pencil — with his _ right _ hand, Sam notices.

He leans over the notebook and writes for maybe five minutes straight while Sam just looks on. When Bucky looks back up, he has a little frown.

“I suppose she’s dead now,” he says quietly, looking down at the words he wrote. Sam can just make out words like red hair, blue eyes, and 12-3-23 — what must be her birthday.

“It’s been a long time since the 1920s,” Sam says.

Bucky nods, still looking at his words. He frowns, as if he doesn’t recognize the letters.

“A dancer,” he murmurs.

It’s the Soldier that looks back up.

Sam can’t help but feel slightly crushed.

…

The Winter Soldier is becoming Sam’s friend.

It’s strange, because it was hardly a year ago where they were trying to kill each other. Or, really, the Soldier was trying to kill Sam and Sam was trying to stay alive.

But there’s honestly no denying it.

They’re  _ friends _ .

Sam unloads all his problems onto the Soldier and cooks for him and tries to make sure he doesn’t get too caught up in his own head. The Soldier cleans the house and the dishes, insisting that he needs to do  _ something, _ and he talks more and more, just responding to Sam’s stories and when Sam tells a joke  _ the Soldier smiles at Sam _ . It’s not even a pity smile, one that says, ‘your joke was absolutely awful, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings, so here you go’. It’s not even Bucky smiling up at him. It’s the Soldier and  _ it’s a genuine smile _ .

The Soldier has made progress.

And it’s nice to have someone else. Someone that Sam can trust. He wouldn’t trust the Soldier with his life, not yet, but Sam trusts the Soldier with his secrets, with his fears — things like how he’s afraid that every mission he goes on will be his last, that he’ll be killed without any way to stop it just like Riley was. It almost doesn’t seem like he’s talking to a human when he’s talking to the Soldier — the Soldier’s not supposed to  _ feel _ things. He’s supposed to kill and get out.

Sam thinks that the more he shares with the Soldier, the more humanity he gives him, even if just a little bit. It all counts.

The Soldier’s memory seems to be better, too, and Sam can’t help but smile when the Soldier asks him for a new notebook — he filled up the first one. He frowns at the Soldier, when the Soldier says that he can write down some math formulas to help Sam out with his math work. That was  _ months  _ ago, really? He doesn’t say anything, though, because it makes the Soldier smile. Sam loves that.

Except being friends with the Soldier —  _ caring _ about the Soldier — is tearing Sam up inside.

While he’s becoming close with the Soldier at home, he meets up with Steve nearly every day and goes over dozens of leads to Bucky. Dozens of leads that always fall short, of course,  _ because Bucky’s living at Sam’s house _ .

And Steve looks so disheartened every time a lead comes up with nothing.

Sam doesn’t tell him about the Soldier, though, because the Soldier isn’t  _ Bucky _ yet. Preferably, the Soldier will get one hundred percent better and  _ then _ Sam will tell Steve everything.

Not yet, though.

For now, Sam just continues to become friends with the Soldier and continues to lie directly to Steve’s face.

…

The Winter Soldier isn’t an Avenger. Sam is, now.

And with that, Sam’s part of the Accords.

The Soldier doesn’t even know what the Accords are, not until Sam explains them to him one night over their meal.

“Everything’s going to shit, basically,” the Soldier says once Sam finishes catching him up on everything, stabbing a green bean with a fork.

Sam can’t help but laugh at the Soldier’s tone — it’s deadpan, as if telling Sam that he could’ve just summed it up like that.

“Basically,” Sam says. The Soldier glances up at him with a little smirk. His eyes are still dark — he’s still the Soldier, not Bucky.

“And you’re against them?” the Soldier asks, eating another forkful of his dinner.

Sam puts down his fork, leaning back and looking at the Soldier.

“If there’s someone that needs saving, we need to be able to save them,” Sam says, breathing hard. “If they tell us to go somewhere we don’t want to go, we can’t do anything about it. They can send us to potentially hurt innocent people and we can’t say otherwise.”

It’s a really tough issue, because it’s really  _ not _ clear cut. Sam can see why Stark wants the Accords, but he also knows why they’re a bad idea. If there were amendments to them, then  _ maybe _ , but Sam doesn’t want to sign until those are on the table. As of now, they aren’t.

“No, I agree with you,” the Soldier says. “I think you’ll figure it all out though,” he says with a wink.. “Let me guess,” Bucky continues, “so does Steve?”

Sam chuckles and nods. Sometimes he forgets that the Soldier  _ does _ , deep down, know who Steve is.

The Soldier frowns for a second and passes his fork from his left hand into his right hand. He looks like he’s about to start eating again, but using the other hand, and Sam wonders if Bucky is back, at least for a bit. Ultimately, though, the Soldier sticks with his left hand.

“I think Steve’s always been like this,” the Soldier says, moving food around on his plate. “He always wanted to do what was  _ right _ . Captain America…”

Sam laughs a little bit, but he’s also looking closely at the Soldier. It seems like he remembers things, but usually he reverts to Bucky when he has a revelation. Right now, the Soldier’s eyes are dark and he’s holding his fork with his metal arm, gripping it tight. Something’s different here.

“I’m pretty sure he enlisted for the army five times, under different states every time,” the Soldier says softly. He laughs, a short and stiff one, and looks up at Sam. “I can’t really remember, though.”

“That’s okay,” Sam says quickly, reaching out a hand to the Soldier. “Don’t stress yourself.”

The Soldier frowns. “I think I just remembered that, but it felt different than when I remembered other things,” he says. He looks at Sam and Sam can see worry etched onto his face.

Sam doesn’t know what to say. Maybe the Soldier is  _ becoming _ Bucky. Maybe he’ll have Bucky’s brain, but still feel like the Soldier. Sam doesn’t really know — he’s not well-versed in brain psychology at all — but he hates seeing the Soldier look so concerned.

Eventually, they just go back to eating. Sam notices that the Soldier is forcing himself to use his right hand to eat — his hand is trembling and he’s being clumsy — but he decides not to talk about it.

Sam’s phone buzzes, then, a welcome distraction from trying to wrap his head around what’s going on in the Soldier’s brain.

_ can i come over _ , the text reads. It’s from Steve and the style is slightly concerning to Sam — usually Steve uses perfect grammar.

Another one comes in before Sam has the chance to respond.  _ like now _ , it reads.

_ please _ , a third one says.

_ Of course _ , Sam replies, with even thinking. He feels like something’s wrong with Steve, in his gut.

And then he looks across the table at the Soldier and realizes what he’s just done.

“You need to go upstairs,” Sam whispers.

…

The Winter Soldier is in Sam’s guest bedroom, and Steve Rogers is sitting on his couch, his head in his hands.

Steve came over just a few minutes after Sam said yes, and he just collapsed onto the couch when he walked in. He has yet to tell Sam why he came over. It’s slightly terrifying — Sam’s never seen Steve so shaken up.

He also feels guilty, because Steve’s sitting in the same spot that the Soldier was sitting in only a couple of years ago. The spot that the Soldier has sat in countless times since then. Sam  _ still _ hasn’t told Steve about the Soldier, and it seems like he never will, by this point. He’s in far too deep. The memory the Soldier got while not  _ quite _ Bucky keeps on haunting Sam as well and Sam’s itching to just  _ tell _ Steve, to bring him upstairs and show him the Soldier and be like ‘Ta-da! Here’s that friend we’ve been searching for for two years! I’ve been hiding him!’

Except

it seems like Steve has more pressing issues.

“Steve?” Sam asks, once the silence goes on for a couple of more moments — just  _ too _ long.

Steve looks up at Sam and he looks so utterly  _ broken _ . Sam doesn’t even know what to do. He’s never seen Steve like this before. Steve’s…

Well, Steve’s never broken down before. He’s supposed to be stronger than that, at least to the public.

“Peggy died,” Steve says. His voice sounds hollow.

“Oh,  _ babe _ ,” Sam says, the pet name slipping out because maybe Steve  _ needs  _ that right now, as an extra layer of comfort.

He just walks over to Steve and places his arms around him. Steve leans into him, and Sam can hear Steve choke back a sob.

“Once I came out of the ice,” Steve says into Sam’s shoulder, “I thought I had lost  _ everyone _ . Seeing Peggy again…”

Steve trails off, and Sam knows where he was going, but he can’t even fathom what Steve’s feeling.

“I just wish I knew where Bucky is,” Steve says after a moment of silence. “I  _ know _ that he remembers me, I just need to  _ find him _ .”

Sam shifts, guilt pouring over him. He should just tell Steve everything. That’ll make this a little bit better, at least. Right? Except what if Steve triggers the Soldier into become the  _ Asset _ ? What if the Soldier doesn’t remember Steve properly? Steve would be even more crushed.

Sam just holds Steve tighter.

“Sam?” Steve asks after a few moments, his voice still sounding empty.

“Yeah, Steve?” Sam replies.

“Can you come to the funeral with me?” he asks. His voice is small, like he doesn’t know whether he  _ really _ wants to be asking this of Sam.

Sam can’t say no.

…

The Winter Soldier is sitting next to Sam on his couch and they’re watching the news because after the weekend Sam’s had, he needs something mind-numbing to watch. He hadn’t been to a funeral since  _ Riley _ , and he didn’t know Peggy, but his heart still ached for Steve and how much he was hurting — how much he still  _ is _ hurting, really.

Sam’s considering changing the channel when the headline blaring on the screen catches his eyes:

_ United Nations Complex Bombed. _

The UN Complex. Where the Accords are being signed,  _ right now _ . Steve didn’t want to go, and Sam agreed — they’re not signing the Accords, anyway, so why go? Still, there are other Avengers there, and tons of world leaders as well.

He tunes his brain in to hear, “...least twelve are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous —”

Sam’s able to regather his wits to grab the remote and turn off the television. He turns to the Soldier, slowly, trying to read him, but for the first time in a long time, his face is blank.

“I didn’t —” the Soldier says, his voice rough.

“I know,” Sam says, because the Soldier has been at home for the entire time the UN signings were happening.

The Soldier’s breaths are shallow, and Sam looks over at him, wondering what he’s going to do.

“They’re going to be coming for me,” he says, looking straight ahead instead of facing Sam.

“I know,” Sam says, because they think that the Soldier bombed a  _ UN Complex _ . Of course there are going to be people coming after him.

The Soldier is quiet for a few moments, before taking a deep, long breath.

“I’m scared,” he whispers.

Sam’s heart breaks, just a little.

It breaks because Sam doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to protect the Soldier.

“It’ll be okay,” Sam chokes out. Even to his own ears, it doesn’t sound convincing.

The Soldier opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Sam’s phone rings loudly.  _ Mr. Captain Sir _ flashes across his phone screen. Steve.

“Hello?” Sam says, putting it on speaker so the Soldier can hear their conversation.

“Sam,” Steve says, his voice sounding stiff, “have you seen the news?”

“Yeah,” Sam replies, licking his lips. He looks up at the Soldier, but the Soldier hasn’t moved.

“We need to find him first. I’m the one that’s least likely to die trying to bring him in,” Steve says, and Sam can see the Soldier wince at the sentence.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” Sam asks into the phone instead. The Soldier looks up at Sam quickly, looking slightly panicked.  _ It’s time _ , Sam mouths to him.

“I’ll be there.”

…

The Winter Soldier is sitting in Sam’s living room, not moving from his spot on the couch. Steve’s also not moving. He’s standing across from the couch, looking back and forth from Sam to the Soldier.

“How long?” Steve asks after a stretch of silence that was  _ way _ too long for Sam’s liking.

“Two years,” Sam answers quietly, knowing what Steve meant without having him elaborate.

“Two years,” Steve repeats. “Two years that we’ve been searching for Bucky. Two years that he’s been  _ here _ , the entire time. Two years you’ve been lying to me,” Steve says. Each sentence hurts Sam a little bit more. “Two years you’ve been  _ harboring a fugitive _ ,” he adds, and Sam has to hold back a laugh. As if Steve would do any less.

“Right,” Sam says, fixing Steve with a glare. “Because you’ve never done anything illegal.”

“I assume you had a reason?” Steve asks, ignoring Sam’s jab.

Sam opens his mouth to answer, but the Soldier cuts him off.

“I only remember half of my life, Steve,” he says, looking down at the floor. “I’m not the Bucky you want.”

“You’re Bucky,” Steve says, focusing on the Soldier. “That’s what I want.”

The Soldier lets out a sharp laugh but doesn’t say anything more.

“How are we supposed to not get arrested?” Sam asks, not interested in whatever’s happening between the two of them. It’s done. It’s over with. They have other pressing matters than why Sam didn’t tell Steve about the Soldier. Besides, Sam’s not one hundred percent sure anyway. He knows he should have, but he just… could never bring himself to do it.

“We lay low until we have proof it wasn’t Bucky,” Steve says, standing up a little straighter and putting on his Captain America voice.

“And how are we supposed to get proof?” the Soldier asks, sounding tired. Steve opens his mouth and Sam’s slightly impressed — he has a plan already? — when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Sam says, walking over to the door and wrenching it open.

He’s face-to-face with a man in a suit, holding up a piece of paper. Behind him, Sam can see three people,  _ CIA _ emblazoned on their chests, each pointing a gun at Sam.

“Sam Wilson?” the man in the suit asks. Sam nods, slowly, keeping his eye on the CIA agents. “We have a warrant.”

He’s holding up a piece of paper in his hand,  _ Superior Court of the District of Columbia Search Warrant  _ written at the top.

And, without waiting for Sam to invite them in, they walk in, heading into the living room.

Where Steve and the Soldier are.

The CIA agents begin searching Sam’s house while the man in the suit walks over to the Soldier and Steve.

“You’re under arrest,” the man says, pointing to the Soldier.

Steve makes a move towards the Soldier, his hand out protectingly, but Sam hisses, “Steve,” looking at him with a little urgency in his eyes. Steve looks at Sam, and backs away, looking a little reluctant.

The man in the suit grabs the Soldier’s arms and Sam can see him clench his fists, prepared to punch out the man — and he has no doubt that the Soldier  _ can _ punch him out — but he catches the Soldier’s eyes and slowly shakes his head. They don’t want to fight this one. Sam’s pretty sure they’ll lose.

They can get out of this, though. Sam is  _ so sure _ . How could the Soldier possibly be in DC already, if he just bombed the UN Complex yesterday? Sam will explain it all and everything will be  _ fine. _

Except there’s also a part of Sam that’s freaking out.

He freaks out even more when the man says, “You two are coming as well,” to Steve and Sam. They’re not being forced into anything, but when the man clips handcuffs onto the Soldier and begins to walk out, they follow.

They haven’t said it officially, but Sam’s basically been arrested. He’s been harboring a fugitive that allegedly blew up the UN. The press really is going to have a field day — Captain America’s friend and fellow Avenger protecting a known assassin for two years. The worst scandal in DC since Watergate.

Sam really needs to come up with a plan to prove the Soldier didn’t do anything.

Fast.

He doesn’t even know  _ why _ he has such a strong urge to protect the Soldier from this, but if he doesn’t…

Well, doesn’t that mean that the last two years have been a waste? Doesn’t that mean that the Soldier remembering things, that him getting better, is all for naught?

And Sam realizes that he’ll  _ really _ miss the Soldier if he’s gone.

…

The Winter Soldier is being ‘seen by a psychiatrist’. That’s the excuse given to Sam and Steve, but it doesn’t calm Sam at all. He keeps on running his hands together, hardly hearing anything the agent — Sharon Carter — in front of them is saying — something about how Sam’s wings were taken from his house under the warrant, along with Steve’s shield. They’ll be given reimbursement, but it’s the government’s property now. It sucks, yes, but Sam just wants the Soldier back.

“Someone must’ve framed him to find him,” Carter says, Sam tuning in to hear her talking. She seemed to have no problem believing Sam’s story, which he’s thankful for. “But that doesn’t guarantee that whoever framed him found him — it guarantees that we would.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, swallowing visibly.

“No,” Sam whispers. Who’d want  _ Bucky _ ? They must mean to get to the Asset, somehow, and — well, Sam’s panicking a little inside.

“That doctor,” Carter says slowly, looking between Sam and Steve. “He’s alone with Bucky right now. He could —”

And then everything goes dark, in the middle of Carter talking.

Sam blinks, trying to get adjusted to the sudden dark. He can sort of make out Steve’s outline and he walks closer to it, stretching out a hand.

“Sub-level five, east wing,” Carter says, her voice reaching out through the dark.

“Bucky,” Sam says, his heart in his throat.

“We gotta get him,” Steve replies.

Good. They’re on the same wavelength.

…

The Winter Soldier is…

Well, the Winter Soldier is. And that’s a huge problem. When Sam and Steve make it to the room where he’s being seen fine, following the little blinking backup lights on the ceiling.

And there are tons of agents collapsed, knocked out — maybe dead? — and the supposed psychiatrist is laying on the floor, groaning, “Help me…”

Steve goes to the guy, but Sam’s still looking around the room — where’s the Soldier?

And then, suddenly, he has a fist in his face and  _ there’s _ the Soldier.

And he’s  _ the Soldier  _ — the fucking Asset. Brilliant.

“Bucky,” Sam breathes, trying to catch his breath. The wind’s knocked out of him, but Sam registers that he was punched with the Soldier’s  _ real _ arm — and it could’ve been way harder.

The Soldier just spares him a glance with steely eyes and  _ Sam can see him hesitating  _ before he punches Sam — again with his flesh arm, but hard enough that Sam’s knocked to the floor.

The Soldier continues to Steve, and Sam regains his thoughts and he just realizes —

The doctor.

He gathers to his feet and does a three-sixty, seeing the psychiatrist climbing down the steps.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam says, starting after. He knows that the doctor did this — he must have, who else could have? — but by the time Sam follows the stairs outside…

He’s gone.

…

The Winter Soldier is unconscious, sitting on a chair with his metal arm beneath concrete blocks.

Sam and Steve sought refuge in an abandoned warehouse and they’re waiting for the Soldier to wake up. It’s been hours by this point and Sam’s worried that the Soldier won’t wake up. He’s worried that if he  _ does _ wake up, he’ll be different.

“How’d you get him?” Sam asks finally, the first of them to say anything. He points his chin towards the Soldier before turning to face Steve.

“We… fell,” Steve says, sort of lamely, waving a hand and staring at the Soldier. “Into a lake. Water. Lungs.”

Sam regards Steve. It’s always shocking to Sam whenever Steve lets the Captain America facade drop for a second. A lot of people forget that he’s  _ Steve Rogers _ first. Not Captain America. And Steve Rogers, at this very moment, looks freaking  _ exhausted _ . Sam nods slowly, not pressing Steve for more details. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to give them.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, after another quiet spell. He doesn’t elaborate, figuring that Steve knows what he’s talking about.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, looking over at Sam. Steve  _ looks _ fine, but Sam wouldn’t forgive so easily if he was in Steve’s position.

“It’s really not,” Sam whispers, looking down at his hands before looking back up at Steve.

Steve sighs deeply and opens his mouth like he’s going say something — probably, knowing him, something to try and comfort Sam — but he closes it, giving Sam a half-smile.

From the other side of the room, the Soldier stirs with a soft groan, shifting. Both Steve and Sam are on their feet in seconds.

The Soldier blinks for a moment, before looking up at Sam and then Steve.

“Sam?” he asks, looking directly at him.

Sam can tell it in his eyes — this is Bucky. They look tired and groggy and confused, but they have just a  _ tiny _ glimmer to them.

“Bucky,” Sam says, walking over. He doesn’t care that he’s only done this once before, he’s feeling a bit brave, especially with what happened — Sam wraps Bucky in a hug. Bucky leans into it with his head and Sam realizes how he’s actually missed Bucky, even if it was only a short time they spent apart.

“Do I get a hug, too?” Steve asks, standing back from them, a small teasing smile on his face. Sam rolls his eyes, but still gestures for Steve to join them.

It’s nice, for a moment.

Then Bucky mutters that he remembers something.

…

The Winter Soldier isn’t the only Winter Soldier.

According to Bucky, there are  _ five  _ other super soldiers like him.

“They can take a whole country down in one night, and you'd never see them coming,” Bucky says, blinking hard.

“And the doctor wants to control them,” Sam says. It’s not a question.

Bucky looks up at Sam, and there’s  _ sadness _ in his eyes.

“How many people did I —?” he starts to ask, but Steve cuts him off, saying, “ _ None _ .”

Sam spares Steve a fleeting glance because they don’t  _ know _ that Bucky didn’t kill anyone, but he quickly turns back to Bucky.

“Where are the others?” he asks sharply. “We should get there before the doctor.”

“Siberia,” Bucky answers after a slight pause. “But we can’t do this alone.”

Steve closes his eyes for a second and lets out a breath.

“We’ll need backup.”

“Tony?” Sam asks, because his first instinct is Iron Man — he’s  _ Iron Man _ .

“Would he really believe us?” Steve asks, turning towards Sam and raising his eyebrows. “And besides, with the Accords… We’re alone on this.” Steve sounds so defeated by this, and Sam racks his brain for someone — anyone — that could help.

“Maybe not.”

…

The Winter Soldier seems to have subsided. Sam keeps an eye on Bucky for the entire drive to the airport, sitting in the backseat with him, and he  _ seems _ fine, but Sam’s also on edge — they lost him  _ so quickly _ earlier.

They pause under a bridge because Steve says that he’s gotten in contact with Sharon Carter — she has their suits.

“You’re putting me on edge by being on edge, Sam,” Bucky says as Steve steps out of the car.

“An hour ago, you were the Asset, Bucky,” Sam says, looking over. Bucky studying his face carefully, as if he sees something in it. Sam shifts in his seat. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

“Lose me?” Bucky repeats, almost smirking. Sam rolls his eyes and Bucky’s smirk gets wider. “Hey, look,” he says, pointing to where Steve and Carter are standing and talking — and kissing. “Even at a hundred Rogers has game,” Bucky notes, his mouth settling into a smirk.

Sam smirks right along with Bucky as Steve leans back from kissing Carter. It’s understandable; Sam would want to have one last kiss before he goes off to — probably —  die fighting five Winter Soldiers.

“You got any game in your old age?” Sam asks, turning back to Bucky and raising an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“I haven’t really been thinking about dating,” Bucky says, a tinge of sadness now tainting his smirk.

“I’m sure you still have  _ some _ ,” Sam insist. “Steve’s said you were  _ quite _ the ‘ladies’ man’ in the day,” he says, putting air quotes.

“Yeah, maybe you’ll see it sometime,” Bucky replies, shifting so that he’s facing Sam more. Sam exhales through his nose and shakes his head a little bit.

“Are you two done flirting?” Steve’s voice calls, just as Sam’s about to reply — something witty, probably. He didn’t even notice that Steve had opened the door and he’s leaning into the car, looking back at them.

“We’re not flirting,” he says immediately, because the thought of flirting with Bucky is insane. Why would he flirt with Bucky? When, in the past  _ two years _ have they ever flirted?

Or maybe they have, and Sam’s just been unobservant?

Great, now Sam’s rethinking every conversation they’ve ever had.

And maybe Bucky  _ has _ flirted with Sam, here and there.

Steve looks over at Bucky with a meaningful glance and Sam wants to ask  _ what _ , but they have more pressing issues. Still, it rings in the back of Sam’s head —  _ was Bucky flirting with Sam _ ?

Because oh.

“Let’s go stop the Winter Soldiers,” Sam says, giving Steve a soft glare.

Steve smirks and Sam doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Steve smirk before. He doesn’t like it.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Steve gets in the car, buckles, and steps on the gas.

Sam’s quiet for the rest of the ride. He spends the entire time shifting in his seat and looking over at Bucky, who’s just drumming his fingers on the car door, awfully calm for someone who might die in the next few hours. Sam reaches his hand out, nudging Bucky’s left shoulder. When Bucky looks over, he sends a small smile Bucky’s way. It’s probably tough for him, isn’t it? They’re going back to the place where Bucky was made into the Asset. That can’t be easy.

Bucky smiles back, and Sam thinks that maybe they’ll be okay.

They pull up next to a van, and get out of the car, greeting Clint Barton. Wanda slides out of the van, and so does Sam’s recruit.

“Tic Tac,” Sam says. The superhero he had encountered, the one that kicked his ass and who made Bucky laugh in the retelling, is standing in front of him, suit off — Scott Lang.

“Good to see you,” he says. Sam takes relish in the fact that he looks slightly nervous. “Look, what happened last time when I —”

“It was a great audition,” Sam says quickly, cutting him off, “but it’ll never happen again.”

Steve gives him an amused look, and Sam rolls his eyes; he didn’t exactly say  _ how _ he knew about Lang, but Steve has probably already put the pieces together.

“They tell you what we’re up against?” he asks, putting on his Captain America voice, because  _ of course _ he is; he’s talking to someone who’s a fan.

“Something about psycho-assassins?” Lang says. Sam glances over at Bucky, who shifts a little uncomfortably.

“We’re outside the law on this one,” Steve says, “so if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.”

“What else is new?”

Sam smiles a little at that, but his smile is wiped almost straight away as the overhead speakers blare, saying, “This is an emergency. All passengers must evacuate the airport immediately.”

“Stark,” Sam says, inhaling sharply.

“Suit up,” Steve says, looking around at them.

…

Bucky is standing next to Sam in the terminal, and Sam’s peering out with his glasses, searching for the Quinjet Stark must’ve arrived in. Bucky keeps on shifting next to him, and the more he shifts, the more Sam is annoyed. Steve’s words are  _ still _ ringing in his head.  _ “Are you two done flirting?” _ Sam wasn’t reading into Bucky’s banter before, but  _ now _ he is.

Does Bucky like him  _ like that _ ? Is Bucky just flirting with anything? Steve  _ did _ say he was a player.

Does Sam  _ want _ Bucky to like him like that?

That’s the part that’s hurting Sam’s head, because he wouldn’t be opposed to it, but he’s not sure he wants to pursue that, either.

“You okay, Bucky?” he asks, once he can’t stand Bucky’s shifting anymore.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable earlier,” he says, shifting  _ again _ . It’s the twitchiest Sam’s ever seen him.

“It’s fine,” Sam says, continuing to scan the runways.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky continues. Sam grits his teeth. They are  _ not _ going to have this conversation right now.

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” Sam repeats. His glasses finally make a hit, and he can see the outline of their Quinjet. “We found it. Their Quinjet’s in hanger five, north runway,” he says into his comms. “It’s fine,” he says for a third time, once he turns and sees Bucky still looking unsure.

And the battle starts.

Sam and Bucky start running through the terminal; the faster they can get to the Quinjet, the faster they’ll be able to stop whatever the doctor has plans.

Something thumps at the window above them — or more like  _ someone _ .

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asks, turning his head to peer at the figure.

Sam sees a flash of red tights over thin legs and mutters, “Everyone’s got a gimmick now.” In all his time of being a superhero, he’s actually managed to  _ avoid _ tights.

He just pushes on, trying to run fast, but something —  _ red freaking tights _ — slam into his chest, throwing him background.

What…?

He shifts up in time to see a person in a skin-tight suit, catching a punch Bucky throws. With his metal arm.

_ What? _ Who the hell is this guy?

“You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!” the newcomer says, and his voice is  _ so young _ .

Still, Sam has somewhere to be, so he spreads his wings and hits the kid, soaring up. The kid punches at him and his punches are  _ strong _ . At least, stronger than a kid’s should be. Is this kid some super soldier?

Sam just lets go, then, and the kid shoots — is that a  _ web _ ?

God, he needs to find Bucky and just get out of here. Maybe he’ll be able to carry Bucky and just fly them to the Quinjet…?

Oh, but  _ Jesus Christ _ , the kid is  _ following him _ . Sam turns around briefly, and the kid stops moving.

“Oh, God,” he mutters, before catching a beam thrown at him —  _ Bucky _ .

The kid just throws it back, but Sam sees his opportunity and swoops in, knocking him back and retreating to the railing of the stairs. They’re so close… The kid recovers quickly, though, and shoots another web, this time at Sam’s hand and it sticks him to the railing. When Sam tries to move his hand, it’s totally stuck.

“Are those wings carbon fiber?” the kid asks, turning to face Sam fully.

He’s wearing a suit that has webs all along it and spider emblem in the middle. Spiders.

Which…

Sam twists his hand again. “Is this stuff  _ coming out of you _ ?” he asks. That’s honestly really gross.

“That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man,” the kid continues, ignoring Sam’s question.

Sam rolls his eyes at the kid’s chatter. If he’s going to defeat him, just  _ do it _ . Also, where’s Bucky? “I don't know if you've been a fight before,” Sam says, looking up at the kid, “but there's usually not this much talking.”

“Alright, sorry, my bad,” the kid says, and Sam can  _ hear _ the smirk in his voice. He shoots another web at the ceiling, and Sam briefly see Bucky standing in front of him before the kid slams into them and they both go backwards off the railing. Sam instinctively reaches for the control panel on his right arm, but he can’t do much before the kid webs them up.

Fortunately, Sam can still maneuver his fingers a  _ tiny _ bit to summon Redwing.

“Guys, look. I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark,” the kid says, standing above them, “so I’m really sorry, but —” Sam lets out a little laugh as Redwing swoops in, grabbing the kid and dragging him away.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Bucky says from behind him. Sam shifts, still caught up in the webs, and see Bucky just as incapacitated next to him.

“Sorry, babe,” he says before realizing the words that are coming out of his mouth. Well, shit. He usually calls his friends babe out of habit, but considering Bucky’s supposed flirting earlier, it fills the room with a tension.

“We should get going,” Bucky says finally, wrenching himself out of the webs with his metal arm and standing up.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. He manages not to flinch when Bucky pulls the webs off him, and he accepts the hand up Bucky offers.

They run on.

…

Bucky is somewhere on the ground while Sam flies into the air, being chased by Rhodes. He keeps on shooting at him, but he’s wearing armor, and it’s getting hard to focus on shooting and maneuvering around Rhodes’ shots.

“We gotta draw out the flyers,” Steve says into Sam’s earpiece. “I'll take Vision. You get to the jet.”

Sam breathes hard, flying higher, and he can see the fight clearer from up here.

And they’re not going to win.

“No, you get to the jet,” he says into his comms. “Both of you!” Sam’s voice gets louder as he swerves Rhodes again. “The rest of us aren’t getting out of here. This isn’t the real fight.”

He hates that he’s sending his two best friends to fight — in the words of Lang — psycho-assassins by themselves, but if anyone’s capable, it’s probably the pair of super soldiers.

“Sam, come with us,” Bucky says in his ear. Sam goes into a dive, avoiding more bullets.

“No, you guys  _ go _ ,” Sam replies, twisting and turning his wings every way he can.

“Sam.  _ Please _ ,” Bucky says, and his tone is so  _ insistent  _ that Sam pauses for a moment, almost getting blasted by Rhodes.

“Let’s get to the jet,” he breathes into his comms, swerving just in time. He tucks his wings in, hurtling towards the floor, the wind rushing in his ears too loud to hear anything in his comms, but before he knows it, Lang is huge.

Like.

Gigantic.

“Way to go, Tic Tac!” Sam says, letting out a laugh and a half-cheer.

He dives towards the hanger and looks down, seeing Steve and Bucky following him on the ground. A beam of light comes from behind Sam as he lands, joining Steve and Bucky, and a tower collapses, almost blocking them from the Quinjet, but a red glow holds it up.

_ Wanda _ , Sam thinks, not turning back. They need to go  _ now _ or they’re probably not going to make it to Siberia in time.

“Come on,” he says to Steve and Bucky. They run on, sliding under the debris. Just as it falls,  _ nearly _ crushing them. Sam hates that they don’t have time to check on their friends, but they need to  _ go _ .

He thinks they’ve made it away clear, but Natasha is standing there. Sam falters; she can easily kick all their asses, and she  _ knows _ it.

“You’re not going to stop,” she says, looking at Steve.

“You know I can’t,” he responds, glancing towards Bucky.

And that’s another thing that bugs Sam. He knows that he shouldn’t be thinking about Bucky flirting with him, but it keeps on coming back up into his brain.  _ Bucky is Steve’s _ . They obviously have something going on. Or maybe Sam is reading too much into that? What happened in the past hour? He used to be fine without over analyzing every little detail and now he can’t stop.

He needs to stop. He needs to finish this mission. There’ll be time after to overthink everything Bucky does.

_ “Are you two finished flirting?” _

“I’m going to regret this,” Natasha says, bringing Sam back into the present. She raises her arm and Sam tenses, prepared to fight back — or at least dodge — whatever laser she throws at them.

But then Natasha shoots behind them. Sam turns, to see a cat-man behind them, being electrocuted. Who…?

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Natasha tells them, “ _ Go _ .”

…

Bucky is sitting beside Sam on the Quinjet, but Sam’s making a point to look forward as Steve flies them to their destination. He can feel Bucky turn toward him several times, but he won’t look, he won’t look,  _ he won’t look _ .

This whole ‘try not to overthink everything Bucky does from this point onwards’ is going to shit, because Sam  _ can’t _ stop thinking about it. He knows that they have a mission they desperately need to do, and he’s trying to focus on that, but he can’t. He fucking can’t.

“Sam?” Bucky says softly, after they’ve been quiet for at least thirty minutes. The trip’s probably around four or so hours on the Quinjet and Sam’s freaking out a  _ little  _ that they’re going to be late, but Bucky saying his name is just making him more anxious.

“What?” Sam asks, not turning to face him.

“What did I do?” Bucky asks, and Sam can’t continue to ignore him. Not when his voice is this low and uncertain.

“Nothing,” Sam answers, turning his head. Bucky’s regarding him with a concerned look, a little frown on his face. “We’re about to go fight five Winter Soldiers. I’m just stressed.”

He thinks he’s a good enough liar, because Bucky makes a little humming noise and turns to face forward.

“We’ll be fine,” Bucky says.

Bucky’s  _ not _ a good enough liar.

…

Bucky is pointing a gun towards Iron Man.

To be fair, so is Sam.

_ He’s  _ not to supposed to be here.

“You seem a little defensive,” Stark says, the helmet retracting.

“You tried to kill us like three hours ago,” Sam replies, not making any move to lower his gun.

“I’m not here for you guys,” Stark says, looking tired. “Look, could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe.” Sam makes a little laugh in the back his throat at that. “Ross doesn’t know I’m here. I’d like to keep like that, otherwise I’d have to arrest myself.”

“That sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve says, letting his guard down. Sam glances over at Steve, because really? They’re just cool suddenly? But he doesn’t argue, instead relaxing as well.

If Steve trusts Tony, Sam will too.

So, their trio becomes a quartet, and they venture further into the building.

“I got a heat signature,” Stark announces as they approach the main room.

“How many?” Steve asks, lifting his shield.

There’s a slight second of hesitation before Tony answers, “One.”

The lights come on in the room, revealing five chambers, each containing an occupant. There are cracks in each of the glass containers, and as they get closer, Sam realizes that they’ve all been shot.

The Winter Soldiers are dead.

“If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep,” a voice said from overhead speakers. Another light comes on, revealing the doctor from earlier in what looks to be some sort of a control room. Steve hurls his shield at the glass, but there’s not even a scratch. “Please, Captain,” the doctor taunts with a wave of his hand. “The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the blast of UR-100 rockets.”

Stark faces the control room, missiles popping out from his suit.

“I’m betting I can beat that,” Stark says, a slight growl to his voice. Sam can’t help but smile a tiny bit; of  _ course _ Stark can. He’s glad that Stark’s not pointing any of those missiles at him anymore. It’s nice to be on the same side.

“I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time,” the doctor says, his voice still level. “But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve asks.

Sam looks over at him and his brows are furrowed, his mouth in a tight frown.

The doctor makes a little clicking noise with his mouth. “I lost everyone. And so will you.”

From behind them, a little video player jumps to life. As if they’re connected, they all turn at once.

“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again,” the doctor says as the video begins. “But one which crumples from within? That is dead forever.”

The video starts on a dark road, in the middle of the night.

“I know that road,” Stark says. His mouth is stretched in a tight line, his jaw clenching. “What…?”

“Mission report,” the doctor whispers, his voice barely audible. “December 16th, 1991.” Stark makes a little noise in his throat, like he  _ knows _ this date.

“No,” Bucky whispers, speaking for the first time since they’ve arrived. Sam looks over to him and his eyes are closed tight. Stark’s face is also scrunched up as he looks at the screen.

This date means nothing to him, but whatever it is, it must mean a  _ lot _ to them both.

A car drives down the road, white and slick, and it seems like everything is fine until someone on a motorcycle drives by, shooting at the car and making it crash into a tree. The person gets off the bike and moves to the trunk, opening it and checking for something.

On the side of the road, the driver has managed to open the door and crawl out. Sam recognizes him, from old pictures and magazines his Mama used to collect. Billionaire and business man Howard Stark.

Stark. Oh.

“Help,” he croaks out to the man, the one that shot them off the road. “Help my wife.”

The shooter turns towards the camera for the first time and Sam almost can’t breathe when he sees his face.

_ Bucky _ .

Or, rather, not Bucky, because this the Asset, in his prime.

And Sam puts together pieces.

“Stop,” Sam says, turning back to the control room, but the doctor’s gone. “Stop!” he says, louder, as he turns back towards the screen to see the Soldier advance toward Howard.

He steps forward to himself in front of the video because he just  _ knows _ what’s about to happen.

Stark, his eyes glued to the screen, pushes him aside, knocking him to the floor.

Sam gathers himself up in time to see the Soldier walk to the other side of the car and punch the passenger — who’s probably Stark’s  _ mother _ — several times in the face.

Oh, God.

Sam’s heart is shattered.

And he didn’t even know her.

Sam moves closer to Bucky, watching Stark closely. Out of his peripheral vision, Sam can see Steve approach Bucky too, just as Stark lunges in their direction. Sam blocks him with one of his wings, but Stark pushes back, trying to get to Bucky.

“Tony,  _ stop _ !” Sam’s shouting by this point, because he’s pushing back against Stark with all his strength and it’s  _ not _ an easy task, especially when he’s wearing the Iron Man armor.

“He killed my mother, Wilson,” Stark hisses, pushing back a little more, but Sam knows that he’s not pushing fully. He could’ve knocked Sam over by this point, but Sam figures that there’s a part of Stark that doesn’t  _ actually _ want to kill Bucky. He needs to appeal to this part of him.

“The doctor’s manipulating you,” Sam says, making eye contact with Stark. For the second time, Sam can feel his heart shatter for yet a second time.

Because Tony has tears glistening in his eyes. His face is hardened, but his eyes show how much he’s  _ hurting _ .

“Let him,” Tony says, drawing back his hand and powering his blaster up.

Sam dives for Bucky, rolling them out of the way as Stark’s blaster fires. From behind him, Steve pushes his shield into the neck of Stark’s suit, and Stark slowly turns around, powering up another one.

“Steve,  _ no _ ,” Sam says, as Steve aims a punch at Stark’s head. “This is what he  _ wants _ us to do.” He meets Steve’s eyes and sends him a silent plea. They shouldn’t be fighting.

Steve seems to understand Sam’s silent plea, because he ducks as Stark fires another blast, and when he stands up, he just retreats.

Sam clumsily gets off Bucky, realizing they’re still on the floor together and makes his way over to Stark, who still has an arm raised, ready to shoot.

“Tony,” he says quietly. Stark blinks quickly and puts his helmet up, blocking any eye contact Sam wants to make. “Tony, please, stop for five minutes.” He doesn’t know what his plan is, but he needs  _ some _ time. “Five minutes. We’ll just  _ talk _ . And then you can punch Barnes all you want.”

Sam looks into the Iron Man eyes and tries to be as sincere as possible. He’s lying a  _ little  _ bit — he really doesn’t want Stark to punch Bucky — but he  _ does _ just want to talk.

They stand there for a few minutes, just staring off, when finally —  _ finally _ — Stark lowers his arm.

Sam breathes.

“Five minutes,” Stark says, retracting his helmet and actually sitting down on the floor, his metal legs outstretched.

“I know nothing I can say can make this okay,” Bucky says, slowly getting up and facing Stark.

“Damn right,” Stark says with a little snort.

“But I’m sorry,” Bucky says anyway. Stark squints at him, like he doesn’t believe him.

“Do you even remember them?” he asks, his voice dripping with venom.

“I remember Howard from the war,” Bucky replies, looking his actual age for once — so old, so tired, “but after that… I hardly remember anything from the last seventy years.”

Stark seems to falter at this, like it’s the not the answer he expected.

“That wasn’t really you there, was it?” he asks after a few moments, his voice softening a bit.

“I’m not that much of a dumbass that I’d kill  _ Howard Stark _ ,” Bucky replies, risking a small smile.

Sam glances over at Steve and gives him a smirk. Steve’s forte is fighting, but this is  _ Sam’s _ . He knows how to talk, how to sort through issues.

“You would,” Stark agrees, his voice cracking. He’s blinking quickly once again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky repeats, his voice quiet. He looks at Stark nervously and Stark stands up fully.

“I don’t forgive you,” Stark says, and Sam immediately tenses. “But I’m not going to fight you. That wasn’t you.” Stark closes his eyes and he sounds as if he’s repeating it more for himself than for Bucky.

Bucky holds out a hand.

Stark takes it.

…

Bucky is back in the Quinjet, sitting right next to Sam. It’s the three of them back alone again; when they offered Stark a ride, he said that he had his own transportation. Sam’s not an idiot. He knows that there’ll be hell to pay when they get back — they probably broke every part of the Accords — but hopefully everything will smooth over. It seems more likely now that Stark’s on their side.

A part of Sam is still twitchy because they didn’t find the doctor, but Steve gets a call from T’Challa — the new king of Wakanda — saying that he found the doctor, that he’s been taken in.

Which is good.

All loose ends tied.

Except…

Except now Sam’s brain doesn’t have anything to focus on except Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. His stomach is churning every time he looks at Bucky, so he’s trying to face forward, but facing forward means facing Steve, which just makes him think of Bucky and how he thought that they had something going on and  _ damn Sam is so confused why is this happening why can’t his feelings just get into order? _

He feels like a stupid teenager, with some schoolboy crush.

Because maybe —  _ maybe _ — he would be fine with Bucky flirting with him. A part of him, the anxious mess part, hates it. He doesn’t even know why, which is why he’s in so much distress. This was all easier until Steve freaking said something.

_ “Are you two done flirting?” _

Sam’s close to screaming. That does mean, then, that Steve is okay with Bucky and Sam as a thing? He didn’t look  _ upset _ when he said it, and he  _ had _ just kissed someone else right beforehand.

“So, what’s bothering you now?” Bucky asks, pulling Sam from his thoughts.

“What?” Sam says, turning towards Bucky.

God, Sam’s heart is beating so hard.  _ Way _ too hard.

“Before you had a valid excuse for being anxious and twitchy,” Bucky explains, giving Sam a half-smile. “Now you have nothing.”

Sam makes a little noise in his throat, because how is he supposed to explain what’s going on in his brain? He doesn’t even  _ know _ what’s going on in his brain!

“It’s nothing,” Sam says, but his voice doesn’t sound convincing. He glances over to Steve, because he doesn’t want to have this conversation and he  _ sure as hell _ doesn’t want to have this conversation with Steve here.

Bucky must see the glance, because he settles down into his chair and looks straight ahead.

“Fine.”

Sam doesn’t feel fine.

…

Bucky is forcing Sam to talk to him.

Well, he’s not really  _ forcing _ Sam to do anything, but they  _ are _ locked in a room together, and Bucky keeps on coughing.

They’re waiting for their lawyers — probably hired by Stark, since they don’t actually  _ have _ lawyers — to come in and hopefully find a way to smooth everything over. Steve, apparently, is in a different room since all he broke were the Accords. Bucky’s not responsible for anything related to the UN bombings, but he  _ was _ a fugitive as the Winter Soldier, and Sam harbored him. Sam just hopes that everything magically works out. He could certainly use a miracle.

“ _ What? _ ” Sam asks after Bucky coughs for what feels like the one hundredth time. His voice comes out a little sharper than he intended, but Bucky is managing to make him all sorts of anxious.

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” Bucky says. Sam looks up at him and Bucky looks like a puppy. He wonders if Bucky  _ knows _ that he’s doing this, but Bucky looks like an injured puppy and Sam is  _ hating _ that’s he’s the cause of that look.

“For what?” Sam asks, not even blinking. Bucky gives him a little glare.

“For flirting with you,” he says, waving an arm. “For making you feel uncomfortable. For — For  _ I don’t know, Sam _ .” Bucky makes a frustrated sound. “Can you  _ please _ help me out here? Why are you mad at me?”

Sam looks over Bucky once, crossing his arms.

“I’m not,” he answers, clenching his jaw.

_ “For flirting with you,” _ rings in Sam’s head, though. God, that means Bucky  _ was _ flirting with him, no doubt about it, and that Bucky  _ knew _ that he was flirting.

Sam’s heart continues to beat a little faster.

Bucky makes a little humming noise, like he doesn’t really believe Sam.

“So,” he says after they’ve been quiet for another moment, “will you go out with me? I’ve sort of been trying to ask you that for the better part of a year now, and it never seemed like a good time but…”

And Sam chokes on air.

“ _ What? _ ” Sam says, willing his heartbeat to slow down. That is  _ not _ the words he thought would be coming out of Bucky’s mouth. He’s not even sure he heard them right.

“Wow, it doesn’t take much to break your cool exterior, Wilson,” Bucky says, a tiny smirk forming on his face.

“What?” Sam repeats. That’s all his brain can think of at the moment.  _ What, what, what. _

Bucky wipes the smirk from his face.

“I mean —” Bucky says, stammering a little bit. “I  _ did _ want to go on a date with you sometime,” he says, clearing his throat. “But you don’t want to, do you.”

It’s not a question; Sam can hear it as a statement.

Although, he never said that.

“Were you lying, earlier?” he asks in lieu of an answer. “When you told Stark that you don’t remember any of them?”

Bucky gives Sam a hard stare and Sam flinches a little bit. That question’s been bugging him. If he doesn’t remember the people he’s killed, well…

Well, how much of the past two years  _ does _ he remember?

“I don’t really remember it,” Bucky answers finally, looking at the wall above Sam’s head. “It’s like I was in this really bad dream for years and remember that the dream happened, I just don’t know any details.”

“And what  _ do _ you remember?” Sam asks, biting his lip.

“I remember Steve jolting me out of that seventy-year dream,” he says slowly. “I remember tracking you to find your address because you were  _ almost _ Steve, but not quite, and I needed that. And I remember —” Bucky shrugs, meeting Sam’s eyes again. “I remember everything since then, except for ten minutes when the doctor triggered me.”

Sam nods, but doesn’t say anything more.

He still hasn’t answered Bucky’s question, but he thinks, if Bucky really  _ does _ remember them becoming friends, then his answer’s yes. There’s no harm in trying, right?

“So?” Bucky says, looking up at Sam. The uncertainty is written all over his face and Sam takes an almost pleasure in seeing that; he’s never seen Bucky look so  _ unsure _ because of him. “Will you go on a date with me? See my game and all.”

Bucky smiles at Sam, softly and quietly. Sam smiles back.

“Sure. Why not?” he answers with a shrug. His heart is beating so fast, and he really hopes that none of that is showing on his face.

“Why not?” Bucky asks, his smile growing and his eyes brightening in the way that Sam’s learning is the  _ Bucky _ way.

“Why not?” Sam repeats, letting out a little laugh. Honestly, it feels like there’s been a huge pressure lifted off him. His heart rate is slowing down. This can work.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but he’s not even sure what to say. He doesn’t have time to think of anything hilariously witty, either, because someone — presumably their lawyer — walks in at that moment.

Time for business.

…

Bucky, Sam, and Steve get off with just fines. Tony testifies at their trials and maybe the world is more forgiving towards Avengers and amnesiacs. They’re hefty fines, of course, but Tony swoops in and pays them, not even giving them room to argue.

“I’m a billionaire,” Tony says, when he tells them that they’re debt free, “and I owe you. So, don’t complain.”

Bucky looks like he’s about to complain, but Sam reaches over to him and squeezes his hand. He moves his focus to Sam, looking down at their hands intertwined with a slightly shocked expression. Sam raises his eyebrows at Bucky, trying to convey everything — that Bucky brought this upon them, to not look a gift horse in the mouth, that Bucky’s hand is really cold but really nice in Sam’s warm one — in one glance. He seems to manage it, because Bucky doesn’t say anything.

Tony puts on his sunglasses, gives the three of them small finger guns, and walks out.

“So,” Steve says once Tony’s gone, “when did this officially happen?”

Sam snaps his head away from Bucky — and he realizes that it’s a difficult thing to do, because of course he’s cliché  _ already _ — and turns to Steve. There’s a huge smirk on Steve’s face. Sam didn’t even think he had it in him to smirk like that.

“Shut up, Rogers,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

Steve loses his smirk and just grins at them, raising his eyebrows at Bucky a little bit. A part of Sam feels guilty about this, as if he’s stealing Bucky from Steve, but tries to shove that away. Steve doesn’t  _ own _ Bucky. He’s just known him for longer than Sam. Way longer.

“Good for you,” he says, standing up and heading towards the door. “Use protection, kids,” he calls, turning back around for a second, another smirk settling onto his face.

“I’m older than you, Steve,” Bucky responds.

Sam turns back to him to find a little smirk growing on his face.

“So,” Sam says, glancing at the door for a second. “I think that he think we’re boyfriends,” he says to Bucky, shifting a little.

“So?” Bucky asks, the corners of his mouth dipping down a little.

And Sam doesn’t really know how Bucky is that casual about it. Because Sam’s still freaking out a little about the whole thing. Sam looks down at their intertwined fingers and tries to formulate his response, but he has nothing. They’re not left in silence, though, because Bucky sighs and squeezes Sam’s hand, causing Sam to look back up and meet his eyes.

“I mean, I’d want to be,” Bucky says softly. He gives Sam a small smile — no, a  _ nervous _ smile. 

“You’d want to be my boyfriend?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows at Bucky. He just needs to double-check because,  _ yeah _ , he’d be fine with that, but it seems sort of… sudden. He just wants to make sure Bucky isn’t making a mistake, or doing this just because he feels like he owes Sam for letting him stay at his house, or something like that. Bucky rolls his eyes and scoffs a little bit.

“I knew you were bad at math,” Bucky says, “but I didn’t think you were this dumb.”

“Hey!” Sam says, indignant. He’s not  _ bad _ at math. Bucky’s probably just better, that’s all. Sam sort of wishes he would stop bringing it up, but at the same time —

Bucky brings up his flesh finger and pokes at Sam’s cheek and the action sends tingles down Sam’s spine.

He likes it.

“Fuck off,” he says anyway, rolling his eyes at Bucky. Bucky lets out a soft snort.

“Sam, I asked  _ you _ out on a date. Believe it or not, I actually  _ do _ want to date you. Surprise,” Bucky deadpans, raising a single eyebrow at Sam.

“Okay,” Sam says finally.

“Okay?” Bucky repeats back, his eyes lighting up. Sam decides, in that moment, that he wants to make Bucky’s eyes light up for the rest of his life. Happiness never looked better on anyone else.

“Okay,” Sam says, reminded of when Bucky asked him out in the first place. They still haven’t had that date yet, and it  _ could _ go wrong.

But it’ll be okay. Sam’s pretty sure it’ll be okay.

Bucky leans in then, and Sam’s totally unprepared for Bucky to kiss Sam’s lips.

It’s nothing like how kisses are described in books. Bucky’s lips are chapped — it is cold outside, the beginning of winter on its way — and it doesn’t send off any fireworks. It probably only lasts a single second, and it’s probably not even constituted as a kiss.

But still, it makes Sam’s chest warm and when Bucky pulls away, there’s a smile tentatively growing across his face.

Sam knows that they still have a long way to go — not everything is okay right away. Tony and Bucky have a  _ lot _ to work on together, if they’re willing, and Bucky’s still going to have to deal with being the Winter Soldier — but he smiles back at Bucky anyway. He can’t help it. There’s a giddy feeling in his chest, and he’s pretty sure that everything will work out.

This’ll be good.


End file.
